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LIVE!
on Sunday 23rd March
From Atlantic City, New Jersey
PREVIOUSLY
ACW has come a
long way in there 5
months of television
broadcasting, but now
ACW is at a crossroads.
One road will be led by
the current owner of
ACW, Ethan Winters. Like
ACW is at the moment,
ACW will be run with corruption,
and will be overrun by
tyrants who are in
Winters' pocket more
than anything, receiving
pushes for the favors
they do for the boss.
The other road is led by
Dunn and Boyd, the two
founders of ACW and now,
two men whom are looking
to win back their
federation so that they
can take it further than
it has ever been before.
2
roads...one match.
What
will our destination be
this time next week...
Hit
and Run
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"Fuck, I can't be late."
It seemed as if Dane was in the same predicament as the rest of his cohorts were last week. The traffic was backed up for miles, as Legends was an easy attraction, and actually a family attraction also, when we wanted to be.
Aside from that, with no cell phone, and no way of catching Ethan around, it seemed as if Dane was stuck; until he looked to his right. "Ah, yes, the median." Rivers swerved the car over, and with no cops around, or from what he could tell, he pushed it to 50, trying to make up
time that he lost.
Apparently, someone else had the same idea.
Rivers couldn't tell who it was, but they swerved out, not seeing Dane, Dane not seeing them. Rivers, driving the bigger of the two cars, wasn't really affected by the crash, in fact, he kept on driving. His truck sent the other car into a tailspin, which didn't last long with the backed up traffic.
Dane took the exit to the arena, not looking back, moving forward, finally he managed to say...something.
"Fuck em..."
Quinton's
Army Meeting #004
The small locker-room of Quinton May wasn't fitting anymore.
With his aim of having a really big army in due time, Quincy knew that a bigger compound for meetings
was needed and such had to be
found, yet. A small space just wouldn't be appropriate for the matters May wished to discuss with his army.
Which, at the moment, consisted of El Janitors & 006.392. Rumblings over the past week as to whether a new member would be drafted in are simply that; rumours. The match with Ron Williams, however, would decide whether Ron is forced into joining the Army or otherwise.
"Ladies, I feel that tonight is a good night to die. Of course, I've been playing too much Warcraft so that could just be it."
"You don't even like Warcraft; you prefer Starcraft!"
That was 006.392, who had been through a traumatic past couple of weeks. The events of Friday, in the courts, didn't seem to have any effect on him, however. He looked the same as compared to when he was first officially introduced as a member of Quinton's Army, the previous week. If anything, the smile on his face seemed wider and less fake.
Looking around the boiler room they were in, Quincy seemed to be nervous.
This was, after all, Legends.
The biggest event on the ACW calendar. One where some would rise to superstardom and those who failed who no doubt fall into the abyss of obscurity. For the Dictator Of QA, a match with Ron Williams on the card. One where personal pride and something more was at stake.
The chance to strengthen the Army was beckoning.
"Okay, good point. Anyways, I want to tell you all that next week, we will have a new member to join QA! That's right, even if I somehow don't manage to win tonight, the Army will have one more member and soon, we shall rule supreme! YAY! CLAP, YOU GOONS!" Quincy announced with gusto, which was followed by a round of applause from his members.
Quinton beamed, and looked at the UNOFFICIAL ACW Tag-Team Champions, for whom he had a special job for.
One that would require a lot of bravery.
"Howard, Morris; we need to spread the word about the Army. Later on, I want you two to go out to the ring and challenge ANYBODY to take the two of you on. I have faith in the two of you, I know El Janitors can rise to the
occasion!"
Howard and Morris looked at each other, perplexed. They weren't expecting to fight at all, but a chance to shine on a show like Legends? Like, DUH. Who wouldn't want to impress? Retreating into a corner, Quinton and 006.392 watched as El Janitors began an animated discussion, gesticulating and whispering like horny schoolgirls deciding over which hot guy to ride all night long. Finally, after a whole minute, Howard approached Quinton... a solemn look imprinted on his face.
"Sir. WE ACCEPT!"
Quincy nodded as Morris raised his arms and started pacing around the boiler room, at an incredible pace. The agenda for the night had been set; 006.392 would man the HQ, El Janitors would bring fame to the Army, while Quinton would attempt to pick up another victory and thus, induct another member into his legion of minions. Quinton's Army was forming at a pace nobody thought possible. Sure, quite a few chaps like Quincy and the dimension he brought to the
organization. But to have a full-fledged army at his disposal? And a genuine chance of making waves on the show tonight?
It truly was shaping up to be a legendary night.
"Alright people! We know what we have to do today! Remember three things; I AM HOT, BLOWJOBS 4 ALL, ANDDDDD.... CLAP, YOU GOONS!"
Absolutely legendary.
Hit
and Run– A Second Perspective
*HONK*
*HONK*
Sure it didn’t help move the traffic along… but it sure as hell helped relieve some stress.
“What the hell’s the hold up anyway?”
Alias rolled down his car window and looked out at the long line of cars ahead of him. He half grinned to himself. Great. Just fucking great… the most important PPV of his life, the biggest ACW PPV of the year and he probably wouldn’t even be at the arena on time to see the start of the fucking thing.
Family after family had packed themselves into the cars and vans in front of and behind him… “Well..” he thought to himself, “at least the place is going to be packed tonig—
His thoughts trailed off as he glanced over to the median and smiled, hell he wouldn’t even have to use his cell to call Dunn to tell him he’d be a little late tonight. This should help get him there a hell of a lot faster. Quick check for cops… then pedestrians…
Nope.
Nope.
Gas.
Go figure, some one had the same idea.
*CRACK*
Alias’s head jolted forward for a moment and his car went into a tailspin… swiftly coming to a stop as it cracked into the side of a red Neon just four cars down from where he had been stuck in traffic to begin with. Who the fuck would be barreling down the median?
Granted Alias was guilty of the same thing… though he had hit 15 mph tops as he began his way through the congested traffic.
Alias over, and through his cracked driver side window he saw the large truck speed off towards the arena… that fucker hadn’t even slowed down. Alias punched the steering wheel before grabbing his cell phone and dialing a very familiar 3-digit number… the truck’s license plate had been a dead give away for the driver.
RIVERS
Taking
The Reigns
The
clatter and commotion of
an ACW backstage was
sweet to the ears of
most of the ACW roster
as they entered the
arena, the first droves
of which had arrived
around 3-4 hours before
the PPV even began.
These days it was customary
for the two founders to
arrive at the last
minute, usually with the
Resistance by their
side, but this week was
different.
With
the Resistance accounted
for bar one in the
back...Dunn and Boyd
entered through the
spinning doors to the
cheerful faces of the
crew and staff, whom
were praying that the
Resistance won tonight,
for Ethan Winters was
not an easy man to work
with.
"Hey
Dunn...any idea were the
boys will be?"
"No,"
Dunn answered as he
looked for the usual
board to see what the
card was like for
tonight, as he found it,
the duo scampered to it
to check the show out.
"Jesus
Boyd, Winters seems to
have driven most of our
roster out of here,
there's are only 3
matches on the card,
obviously the last match
takes up 10 of the
roster, but Jesus, we've
hardly got anyone left
after that."
"Yeah..."
Boyd sighed. "We've
gotta sort that next
week..."
"Hey,
don't get too confident,
from our time with
Winters, you know you
expect the
unexpected..."
As
Dunn opened the door for
his partner, they shook
hands and greeted the
VIP guests for the
night, even though they
weren't the big stars in
the federation, the
people liked them...for
some reason. As they
walked the corridor, the
patter of someone coming
from behind them made
them both stop and look,
as a FedEx uniform
greeted them with a
package and question.
"Are
you the boss around
here, Mr. Dunn?"
"Mmmmm,"
Dunn slyly looked at
Boyd as they had just
had this conversation
two seconds ago.
"Yeah, I suppose I
am..."
"Here
you go."
As he
scribbled his signature
and collected the
package, with a rip of
the tape a document
popped out into his
hand, as he peered down
onto it with a slight
frown on his face.
"What
is it Dunn?"
"It's
Winters...he's been in a
car accident of some
sort, this says he won't
be here tonight..."
Dunn
and Boyd didn't know
what to say, you can
hate someone so much,
but you would never wish
this upon anyone...definitely.
As Dunn and Boyd carried
on down the hall, there
instincts took them
over...
"C'mon
Boyd, we've got a show
to run."
Mind
Games
Geo Vacton sat in his locker room, a million thoughts were going through his head. He wondered what the outcome of tonight's match would be. He wondered if he would have a job tomorrow if his team were to lose.
He looked down at his ACW United States Championship title on the floor. He wondered about that too. What if tonight A*Dubbs decides to call out his match?
What if he were to wrestle tonight in the main event and take a heavy beaten.. only to be called out moments later by A*Dubbs who would make a match right then and there for his title?
Geo couldn't continue to think about it, he decided. So what if he lost his title anyway?
He was fighting tonight for the future of ACW, not the title. If he lost the title, he could always get it back. If him and his team lost the match, they could never get it back. He picked up his title and left the room, ready to defend the company later on in the evening whether A*Dubbs had any ideas or not.
Charlie
Loc Vs. Nature
The lights dimmed and the arena grew silent… it was one of the many matches scheduled for the All-Star Championship Wrestling’s Pay-Per-View, the only question was which match it was?
Fans in their seats put their hands over their ears and craned their necks up at the Titan Tron awaiting the arrival of the first Superstar. It was like people awaiting the arrival of a Rock Star at a concert, the only difference was that at a concert the people knew who was performing.
“…”
Complete and utter silence followed.
Were the crowd getting ripped off?
Perhaps this was a little bit of foreplay before a nice big entrance… a few moments of silence overtook the arena followed by the entrance of Nature.
It’s amazing how the crowd can hate one man so much, how so much hate and negative energy can be felt in the boo’s of the crowd. Not even bothering to pose or attempt to work them Nature just walked calmly and collectively down towards the ring.
As Nature walked down towards the squared circle the hard rocking guitar riffs of “I Stand Alone” by GODSMACK hit the arena like a ton of bricks. Almost rejoicing to just hear the sound of music the fans rose to their feet… the boo’s turning to cheers in a matter of seconds.
ACW had just witnessed something truly amazing... a Fan Favorite being booed half to death and a resident Heel being cheered down to the ring, this didn’t seem to confuse the crowd too much.
Within seconds of the music starting it stopped as a familiar figure appeared on the entranceway, the small toned silhouette holding a microphone in his hands stopped and pointed down towards the walking Nature.
Taking no notice Nature continued to walk to the ring as a clearly enraged Charlie Loc stood atop the entrance way looking tensed and psychotic as the crowd grew silent awaiting his words of wisdom.
Raising the microphone to his lips the Asian spoke to the back of Nature, “This is it Nature… the war ends here.”
His words didn’t seem to even hit the frequency that Nature was on as he climbed to the apron and began to slide in through the second rope. Charlie’s eyes grew wide as a look of anger crossed over his face,
“You used to say you’ve been waiting for this day, well here it is… seize the moment!” The crowd began to roar as Charlie threw the microphone off of the side of the entrance ramp,
As Nature stood in the ring alone the Referee frisked him, checking him for illegal objects as a glum look crossed over his face. Was Nature finally scared? Something did indeed seem wrong….
Perhaps it was the fact that the Vietnamese Viper that is Charlie Loc was staunching his way to the ring there was absolutely nothing that could be done about it. Charlie was on the warpath and Nature was standing in the center of the road!
Within seconds Charlie had made his way to the apron, whilst the referee fumbled around frisking Nature he dug his hands into the pockets of his jeans and produced a shiny metal object… all in clear view of his opponent.
Not even bothering to point out the illegal weapon Nature stood still, watching Charlie as he clenched his fist before sliding in underneath the bottom rope. The look on his face could tell it all,
Roaring the fans began to chant “Blood” as Charlie sat on the opposite side of the ring to Nature smiling away deviously. Holding his hands up the referee then moved over to frisk Charlie… not knowing of the illegal object in his palm.
Something was wrong with Nature as he stood and stared at Charlie who looked back at him like a raging bull ready to be let out of its pen. Gulping, Nature held his head up high as the referee satisfied himself there where no illegal objects and signaled for the bell.
Ringing out three times the match had begun, bouncing back into the ropes Charlie began to run full tilt at Nature who shifted back a little before standing his ground.
Jumping up high into the air Charlie drew his fist back before sending it crashing down into the skull of Nature, cameras flashing in the rafter caught every second of the moment.
Dirt flew off of the canvas as Nature’s head hit hard, bouncing back up and off a few times as Charlie laughed maniacally before falling onto his limp body and placing two hands on his chest.
Blood began to trickle down Nature’s forehead as the crowd went wild, t he referee seeing no other option but went down for the count. 1…2….3!!
DING
DING
DING
DING
As the bell rung Charlie pushed himself up onto his feet and grinned from ear to ear before motioning for a microphone. Tossing the illegal object into the crowd a microphone was then tossed towards him,
Growing silent, a calm Charlie Loc looked down at his fallen opponent, “Face it Nature, you had lost it from the start…” His voice trailed off as paramedics began to rush towards the ring,
“My job here is done…”, throwing the microphone to the canvas Charlie Loc looked at the now Unconscious Nature and shook his head before sliding out through the ropes and trudging backstage leaving the paramedics to clean up the mess he had just made.
Winner: Charlie
Loc
Reminisce
As he
slammed the boot of his
Black 4x4 shut,
SilverHAWK was greeted
to the arena by at least
200 fans who stood
around the outskirts of
the car park, just
looking for a glimpse of
their hero's, and their
villains.
"HAWK
YOU FUCKIN' RULE!"
SilverHAWK
replied with a fist in
the air as he walked
towards the entrance to
the arena, as the guard
knew who he was, and
nodded in his direction
as he opened the door
for the former ACW World
Champion, but then the
guard nodded again, but
he wasn't looking at
HAWK, instead he was
looking behind HAWK.
"These
fan's don't know shit do
they HAWK?"
HAWK
smirked, as he didn't
even have to look behind
him to do who it was...
"Nice
to see you
again...Osyrus."
"Wish
I could say the
same..."
As
Osyrus brushed past
HAWK, he didn't even
look behind him, as he
went straight to the
locker room area. In the
golden area of
wrestling, and now a days,
that was disrespect.
Osyrus may as well have
just spat in
SilverHAWK's
face...because that was
the distaste in his
mouth.
"Hey
chicken shit!"
This
time it was Osyrus who
stopped, and smirked, as
he felt HAWK brush past
him, but as quick as a
hiccup, Osyrus grabbed
HAWK by the arm and
swung him around, as the
duo were face to face,
not for the first time
in their ACW careers.
"Don't
fuckin' tempt me HAWK,
I'll cripple your ass
again."
"Cripple
me again? When was the
first time? I fell out
the ring, you just
happened to be tagging
along cuz I was kicking
your ass all over the
arena if I remember
correctly. I've been twitching
for 2 months now, don't
tempt me, and get the
fuck off me as
well."
As
Osyrus released his
grip, he stroked HAWK's
jumper of the creases,
and then looked his
nemesis in the eye.
"Tonight
HAWK, again, me and you
are gonna be on
different sides, now if
I remember, it's one to
you, and one to me...I
hope to god your number
gets picked when I'm in
that ring, cuz I'm gonna
finish what I started at
End Game, and I'm going
to put you out for
good."
As
HAWK moved closer to the
2 time ACW Champion,
they snarled at one
another as HAWK had the
last word.
"Looking
forward to it..."
As
Osyrus picked his bag up
from the floor, the
twosome moved their separate
ways, but then suddenly
Osyrus was spun around
by HAWK as he got right
back in Osyrus' face.
"What
you gonna do O? Daddy's
back!"
Impromptu
Recruitment Drive?
His match was around the corner.
The excitement that was building up inside of him couldn't be described in words. His blood was flowing faster than it ever had. A few short months ago, Quinton May wasn't even sure he was going to stay alive for much longer.
Now, he's on the verge of taking part on the biggest extravaganza show of a wrestling company that was touted to be challenging the big boys of the industry, in terms of entertainment and ratings. Nowadays though, the superstars don't care about working together and scripting.
It's all about egos.
Quinton May?
He's not one to be shoving his ego down people's throat; what ego, the more appropriate question should be. The Canadian is modest, and simply wishes to prove a few things to the world. To himself. In order to seek the answers he's been craving for. Answers he's been wanting for a very long time. Only way to do it is to follow the words of God.
Walking towards the waiting area, Quinton May looked around him. Since his two back-to-beat defeats about a month ago, one at the hands of Dane Rivers at the Apocalypse PPV and the other one at the hands of A*Dubbs shortly after, May has picked up two rather impressive victories. And looks on course for a third, against Ron Williams.
Suddenly, Quincy's eyes rested upon a forlorn-looking chap nearby, who was looking at something that was cupped in his right palm. An extended look at the chap and something clicked in Quinton's head. That cheeky glint in his eyes returned, and the Dictator Of QA decided to walk over. A plan had been formulated, and May was squealing deep inside, unable to believe his good luck.
"Hello there."
No response from the guy, who was wearing a black shirt with a number on the right-breast area.
108192.
"Hello?"
Again, silence.
The chap continued to gaze at the object in his hand, unconsciously ignoring Quinton May. Frowning, May waved his hands wildly, trying to garner the man's attention. To no avail. Somewhat frustrated, May began to dance a bit, hoping his effort would be noticed by the man. Swaying his hips, Quincy's eyes searched the man's face for any sign of recognition.
None at all.
"Oi. DO you want to join Quinton's Army?"
Silence.
Ceasing the dance, Quinton frowned again, and looked around. The signal was given; his match was upcoming.
As Quincy turned away, the man with the '108192' shirt finally looked up, in time to see May walking towards the waiting area somewhat dejected that his attempt at recruiting another member didn't go as plan. The man growled, and continued to look down at his prized possession.
The one thing in the world that had any meaning left to him.
His locket...
Arrival.
Confrontation. Violence?
The arena door swung violently open and cracked against the adjacent wall, and in walked ‘The Original Pulp Hero’ Alias. He was clearly not in a good mood as he dragged his gym bags in behind him, having spent the last
20 minutes filing a police report and then waiting to have his car towed off.
His fucking car towed off…
“Damnasshelldamn!” Alias yelled out in frustration kicking a random crate in the arena corridor over, nothing like a good clusterfuck to worsen an already stressful night. He was thankful that he hadn’t missed much more of Legends though…Team Resistance vs. Winters Inc. hadn’t gotten under way so their was still enough time to make plans.
The police on the scene had actually given him a ride to the arena, a fact that Alias smiled a bit at inwardly… imagine the speculation. He was however immediately forced right back into a bad mood after seeing one man.
Osyrus.
Osyrus stood twenty feet down the corridor slapping around a smaller tech crew member… most likely for sport.
“Are you trying to fight back little man?” Osyrus slapped him upside the head once again, yep nothing like training for the night’s big match to get the blood flowing.
Slap.
Fake another slap before dropping the man to his knees with a punch to the stomach. Content, Osyrus turned to walk away, maybe to find another victim, but stopped in his tracks as he saw Alias, clearly in a bad mood, ready to pass by him. Osyrus sneered to himself and stepped in the way of The Original Pulp Hero, only for Alias to bump past him, pushing him towards the wall. Alias wasn’t in the best of moods for this shit… and that’s exactly what Osyrus was looking forward too.
”Did someone break up with his boyfriend... I hate it when two lovers get in a fight.” Osyrus laughs and snarls at Alias.
"Yeah you would know a lot about that sorta shit, wouldn't ya tough guy? When your done being Winters' bitch, what, it's Nexan's turn to pull your leash?" Alias snarled right back.
Osyrus laughed out loud as he
pulled Alias back in front of his face, then his temperament changed... he was pissed that this little curtain jerker had the nerve to talk down to him. Osy might have whupped Alias' ass right there, but he knew he had to save his energy for the big match tonight.
“You know what A, you don't know what it means to have business partners, hell you never even headlined a main event before.. but if you're ever serious about getting your ass whupped in the ring, I go down to fight you. If you’re man enough, put that piece of shit TV title on the line. I'll take it from you no problem.”
Alias was about to step in, but Osyrus cuts him off again.
“If this big match is supposed to prove who really is the best in ACW, than the rest of you feckers ain't got a chance... no matter what place I draw. I am in this match for one reason and that is to prove time and time again why I am the fucking best thing going in the federation, in this sport and in this Industry.
You better remember it Chris, or I'll beat it into your fucking brain like a hammer. I don't fuck around when it comes to winning and I know you know better than anyone what it feels like to get your ass
handed a loss by 'the god of the UnderWorld'... and ACW's god of the ring, Osyrus.”
Alias cocked his left eyebrow slightly, it seemed as if he had struck a chord in his old rival... and Osyrus had decided to respond in kind. A snarl crept onto Alias's face as he pushed Osyrus's hand from his shoulder and got right up into the bigger man's face... nose to nose, if it hadn't been for the four inch size difference. Don't start throwing punches, thought Alias, not with the big match just around the corner.
"Your really itching for some violence aren't yeah, O? Well here's hoping I draw your name tonight. You and I at Legends... imagine that. It's a shame the TV title wouldn't be on the line if that happened... but I don't plan on going anywhere after tonight, so there'll always be another show, another bloody fight. Bet on that." Alias snarled back at Osyrus, snapping the final few words.
As Alias walked away, Osyrus could be heard saying some thing under his breath as he just stared down Alias, he had bigger plans for the night, and Beating up Chris wasn't part of his plan. “Chris, we'll meet down the road, and believe me… You'll wish you would have never have met me those months ago in fEar. Mark my words Chris; you will suffer the ultimate fate at my hands.” Osyrus glared at Alias for the final time as he walked in the opposite direction.
Quinton
May Vs. Ron Williams
For Ron Williams, this match was more than a "YAY, I'VE RETURNED" moment. True, this would be his first official match since his return, seeing how the fight with Rook last week ended in a farce, thanks to El Janitors. And this match had a lot on the line. His own sanity, for one. Ron also wished to prove that he wasn't as washed-up as some people were beginning to think. Finally, he had no intention of joining Quinton's Army and at the same time, considered Quinton May a pest.
Win this match, and Ron didn't have to bother with him any longer.
As the spectators rushed, "Something Inside So Strong" by Rik Waller began to play over the PA system, and a mixed reaction was meted out to greet the arrival of Ron Williams, who looked reasonably calmer than he has in previous weeks.
// The higher you build your barriers //
// The taller I become //
// The farther you take my rights away //
// The faster I will run //
A thin smile on his face, Ron Williams descended down the ramp, seeking a win in front of a capacity crowd, wearing black pants and dark-blue boots. The era with Barry The Chicken was over; Ron wanted to start a new era. One where he would be taken seriously. One where he would be respected for the talent he knew was inside of him. This was his one shot. One opportunity, to seize the day.
// You can deny me //
// You can decide to turn your face away //
// No matter because there's //
// Something inside so strong //
Looking out at the fans in the front row, flashbacks of his first stint in ACW came back to his mind, and Williams began to get angry. Angry at the way he acted then. Angry at the little impact he made. That would all change, Ron swore. Well, the stage is set for him.
// I know that I can make it //
// Tho' you're doing me wrong, so wrong //
// But then my pride was gone //
// Oh no, something inside so strong //
All he had to do was live up to his own expectations. His destiny was now in his own hands.
// Oh oh oh, something inside so strong //
// The more you refuse to hear my voice //
// The louder I will sing //
// You hide behind walls of Jericho //
// Your lies will come tumbling //
// Deny my place in time //
// You squander wealth that's mine //
// My light will shine so brightly //
// It will blind you //
// Because there's... //
// Something inside so strong //
Rolling into the ring, Ron Williams quickly walked over to the corner, and raised both arms in the air while doing so, garnering a slightly louder reaction from the crowd. Some sections were still mildly jeering him, but it didn't seem to matter to Ron. Instead, he looked as if he was concentrating on the task at hand, and why shouldn't he? His opponent has proven to be a handful in recent weeks, and at the last ACW PPV, put forth a worthy performance. His opponent too had something to prove.
The lights in the arena dimmed a little, and "Smoke Two Joints" by Sublime began to play. The reception the fans gave for Quinton May was pretty impressive, as he bounced out from behind the curtains, a determined smile plastered on his face. Wearing only dark green jeans and black sneakers, Quincy seemed he was ready to take part in a classic match.
One he couldn't fathom was possible a while ago, after being decimated at the hands of Dane Rivers. Now, here he was... at Legends.
// I smoke two joints in the morning //
// I smoke two joint at night //
// I smoke two joint in the afternoon //
// It makes me feel all right //
Quincy progressed down the ramp and towards the ring, acknowledging some of the fans who were chanting his name. Ron looked on angrily, as he sought to teach May a lesson for the 'blowjob' comment weeks back.
// I smoke two joints in time of peace //
// And two in time of war //
// I smoke two joints before I smoke two joints //
// And then I smoke two more//
Reaching the ring, Quinton took his time to ascend the steps. This was a big occasion for him too. The reputation of Quinton's Army depended on this match. His own quest to prove that he could actually wrestle also hung in the balance. All in all, the winner had a lot to gain and the loser... a lot to lose.
// Daddy he once told me //
// "Son, you be hard workin' man" //
// And momma she once told me //
// "Son, you do the best you can" //
// Then one day I meet a man //
// He came to me and said //
// "Hard work good and hard work fine.. //
// but first take care of head" //
Quinton's theme slowly began to be drowned out by the anxious roars of the crowd, who were raring to see the match get underway. And as Ron cracked his neck, the referee rang the bell. The match was underway, and both competitors wasted no time in circling each other, looking for an opening. Majority of the spectators were backing Quincy to win the match, but Ron Williams was out to prove them wrong.
The two approached each other, looking to grapple, but Williams sucker-punched May, before firing away with a succession of left hooks. Rocked, Quinton managed to reverse an Irish Whip but his attempt at a clothesline was evaded by Ron, who bounced off the other set of ropes and knocked the Dictator Of QA down with a hard shoulder-block. Picking May right up, Ron connected with a vile headbutt, which sent the Canadian staggering into the corner. That allowed Ron to park at the opposite corner, raise his arm in the air, and charge at Quincy with an almighty roar.
Quinton May should have moved out of the way, really. The impact of Ron's body crushing his was not well-received by the fans, who made it known. Ron simply smiled as May dropped face-first to the mat, the air knocked out of him. Spitting, Williams sniggered at the fan response, before rolling Quinton on his back with his feet and making the cover;
ONE...
TWO...
Easy kick-out by Quinton, as Williams pulled him up by the hair and scored with another right hook to the face. May stumbled back a bit, but managed to snap out of his stupor to block another hook from Ron and put in his first shades of offense, courtesy of a barrage of furious right punches. Leaving Williams totally reeling in the middle of the ring, Quinton May took a few steps back and bounced himself off the ropes, eventually connecting his trademark high-leg clothesline.
The fans cheered, and Quincy breathed a sigh relief; finally, some momentum was on his side. He waited for Williams to get back on his feet and charge at him, which allowed the Dictator of QA to floor his opponent with a Japanese armdrag. Williams was back up quickly but Quincy was on fire now, taking Ron down again, with a drop-toe-hold this time. Ron struggled back up and swung wildly at May, who ducked and retaliated with a gut-punch, following up with a textbook
Russian leg-sweep. The crowd were getting more and more impressed with Quincy's progress, as he made the cover;
ONE...
TWO...
Ron powered out of the pin, somewhat shocking Quincy, who stood up and kicked away at his opponent for a bit. Sensing the chance to possibly put Ron out of commission, May walked over to the corner turnbuckle and ascended to the top, which began to get the crowd
excited. May readied himself on the top, on eye on Ron.. the other eye on his own balance. Satisfied, Quinton May finally leapt off the top.
And drilled Ron Williams with a superb flying elbow-drop.
"HOLY HELL!!"
"HOLY HELL!!"
"HOLY HELL!!"
In the process, Quinton took quite a bit out of himself, but managed to get his body across Ron, who was totally out cold by now;
ONE...
TWO...
THR....
Williams dug deep down and got his shoulder off the mat there, drawing disappointed groans from some sections of the crowd. Quinton frowned as he helped himself up, and as Ron too recovered, the Dictator of QA kicked his opponent in the gut and placed him in the position.
For his finisher. Which he had never executed successfully.
Prior to this.
"QUINCY MAMA!"
"QUINCY MAMA!"
"QUINCY MAMA!"
Finally, Quinton had managed to pull off his double-underhook piledriver finisher, Hideaway. And eagerly hooked the legs, for what was now an assured victory in his books;
ONE...
TWO...
THREE....
NO F'IN WAY.
Ron Williams kicked out at the last possible second, and the look on May's face was that of utter shock and dejection. The very first time he hit his finisher, and it didn't even result in a 3-count. Slapping his hand against the canvas angrily, Quincy grabbed a handful of
Mr. St George's hair and dragged him towards the corner turnbuckle, before kicking away at him. Ron soaked in all the punishment, eventually getting a reprieve when Quinton took a couple of steps back. That was enough notice for Williams to roll out of the way as Quincy charged at him, hoping to ram his knee into Ronald's face. Instead, May's face rebounded off the turnbuckle, allowing Ron to roll him up in a schoolboy pin;
ONE...
TWO...
THRE....
It would have been a travesty had Ron won the match in that manner, and much to the relief of half the crowd, May managed to roll out of the pin. Both men returned to their feet, exhausted and more hungry for the victory now. Quincy was the first to charge, but Williams ducked the wild swing from his opponent and countered with a perfectly-placed falling neckbreaker, before making the desperate cover;
ONE...
TWO...
THR....
Once again, Quinton May kicked out, continuing to keep the fans enthralled in the roller-coaster match. Ron, on the other hand, was highly agitated now and with Quincy on his knees trying to recover,
Mr. St George took a step back and rammed his boot into Quinton's face. Blood started to trickle out of the Dictator's nose, but Williams showed no sympathy as he pulled May up, connected with a forearm shot to the sternum, and hit a
magnificent front suplex. It seemed all over to most in attendance, and they hung their heads low when the referee dropped to his knees to count the cover from Ron;
ONE...
TWO...
THRE....
Amazingly, May forced his left shoulder a couple of inches off the mat. With what little energy he had left, Quincy Mama decided to save himself, instead of laying low and possibly coming back to fight another day. An enraged Ron Williams got up, bounced off the ropes, and dropped his knee into Quinton's face in spectacular fashion. Ron wasn't done, however.
He knew he needed something major to put Quinton May away.
Hence the surprised cheers when Ron Williams actually scaled to the top of the turnbuckle, his eyes transfixed on the prone lifeform of the Dictator Of QA. And with one long breath,
Mr. St George threw caution to the wind, jumping off with a senton splash in mind.
The fact that a 420 lbs pound man was attempting a senton splash was amazing enough. Had he connected, it would have magical.
Alas, Quinton May... bloodied nose and all... rolled out of the way. Barely. The impact of Ronald's crash to the mat was immense, but the truly great thing was how quickly Ron recovered, not wanting to give May any advantage at all. That was all in vain, for when he got back up and turned to face Quincy, the latter kicked him in the gut.
And scored with the Hideaway again.
"RUUUUUUUUUAAAAAAAAAAAAAAHHHHHH!!!"
Once Ron went limp, Quinton May dove atop Ron, hooking the legs, praying at the same time;
ONE...
TWO....
THREEEEEEEEEEEEE!!!!!!
It was all over. Quinton May had done it, and the arena exploded. The match had turned out to be an absolute classic, and both competitors lay on the mat, totally spent... but with the knowledge that they had just become one thing.
Legends.
As per contract, Ron Williams was now the newest member of Quinton's Army but really, instead of kicking himself for losing... a pat on the back is what he should give himself. And as far as Quincy Mama goes, he takes one giant step in his quest. Another victory under his belt, another member under his wings, the respect of everyone in the arena won.
Truly a legendary night.
Winner: Quinton
May
Taking
The Reigns, Part Two
It
was a natural instinct
more than anything that
had both Dunn and Boyd
taking over the reign's
so quickly and as the
Resistance stood in
front of them, minus the
newest member, you could
see that Dunn and Boyd
clearly had a lot on
their plate, based
solely to the amount of
paperwork which lay upon
their new desk, which
was supposed to be for
Winters.
The
four Resistance members
were spread around the
room, with all the gold
in ACW, they were clear favorites
for the match, but
nobody could
underestimate what
Winters INC were going
to do, even without the
leadership of the owner
now.
"Hey
Dunn," Alias
started, as he cleared
his throat and looked
around at the rest of
his team mates.
"How exactly is the
order gonna happen, we
gonna draw straws or
something?"
"No,
myself and Boyd will
give you a number each,
and then the ring
announcer announces the
number that's next, and
then you go out
according to your number
being called, pretty
simple really."
"Dunn."
ICU was in business mood
tonight, it was clear in
his face, cool, calm,
and emotionless.
"Where the fuck is
SilverHAWK?"
Boyd
sighed, as they both
knew the answer to that
one.
"He's
currently attending to
"business" so
he told us, he said that
we all know our jobs
anyway, it's just up to
you guys and go through
with it, but he'll be
here before the match
starts, don't worry
Ivan."
ICU
shifted the gold which
rested on his shoulder,
a belt that SilverHAWK
once held, until Osyrus
stole it from him back
at End Game.
"I
ain't worried...it's
just it would be nice to
know he's gonna be here
you know."
"Yeah..."
the rest of the team
muttered.
It
was a waiting game now;
waiting for SilverHAWK
to arrive, and waiting
for the match to begin.
Like it or not, it was
one on one from now on.
No team battles, no
fights at the end of
shows, this was it...and
the wrestlers couldn't
wait.
In
The Shadows, Observing.
In The Dark, Crawling.
In Two Places At One
Time, Confused?
|
|
"Omar."
Omar, as in Osyrus, people.
"Omar, my friend. The time has come. The road has come to an end. This is your chance. Your time. Your shot at greatness. You want to prove to everybody that you are the toughest person in the industry? In the entire industry? Tonight is the time. NOW is the time."
There could only be one person who speaks in such a manner. And last Sunday on Courage, he met a shocking
appearance. Went nose-to-nose with one of his many enemies. His nemesis back in the days of fEar Wrestling. Currently one of the most charismatic personas in the industry, even if he is described as insane and twisted and psychotic.
Current IOW superstar, Rio Nexan.
"I've given you all the advice I can, Omar. The ball's in your court now. I'll simply be in the shadows, observing. In the dark, crawling. But now, I've got another stage to grace. An asylum is no place for business of our nature, Omar, but I will be watching. All the best."
Rio smiled, as he turned away from the door to Osyrus's locker-room and walked off, a prior engagement having to be tended to. The crowd couldn't help but wonder now, though, about what the former 2-time ACW Champion would do tonight.
After all, propaganda from the mouth of a
sociopathic Cuban will make a person change drastically.
Taking
The Reigns, Part Three
"Ok,
so we have the numbers
sorted?" Boyd asked
as he looked at the 4
assured faces around the
room. "OK then,
it's just a matter of
luck now, but I'm sure
you all know what the
other team are like in
the ring, you've fought
them inside, and outside
of it I guess."
As
Boyd moved away from the
quad, Dunn moved closer
to speak, to deliver his
little notion on how the
match could be won.
"The
thing I would want, is a
breather. I've you're in
there for 1-2 maybe even
3 matches, give yourself
a break every once and
while because at the end
of the day. One or two
of you will go more than
one match, there is no
doubt about that, and to
my knowledge...not many
of you have had multiple
fall matches.
But
the one thing that MUST
be done, is get a decent
about of offense in at
whatever stage you're
at. If you lose...then
you'll leave a beat up
opponent for your team
partner to take care of
OK?"
As
Alias, Jason Kain, ICU
and Geo Vacton sat back
to think about what had
been shed to them, the
door flew open, causing
an immediate reaction of
attack from the
Resistance.
"WOW!
It's me!"
"HAWK!"
As
HAWK lay his bag on an
empty chair, he moved
forward to shake hands
with Dunn and Boyd, who
were delirious at his
return, and as the
Resistance moved forward
to welcome him back,
there was only one left
standing...ICU. The two
men had a clear history
back in the start of
ACW. When they were both
being held back by Ethan
Winters, SilverHAWK and
ICU tussled it out for
the ACW United States
title back at
Relentless, the winner
being SilverHAWK, who
later had to defend it
again that night.
As
Kain, Alias and Vacton
moved away, SilverHAWK
moved forward towards
the ACW World Champion,
to whom the belt was
resting on his shoulder
with pride. HAWK stepped
to within touching
distance, and he did
touch...the ACW Title
Belt.
"Ahhhh...it's
a great feeling huh
Champ?"
"What
is?" ICU
enquired...as he peered
down at HAWK sliding his
finger along the runs of
the title belt.
"Knowing
your the best this
company has to
offer...but what you
have to say to yourself
I bet is...are
you?"
"This
title says I am..."
"Ahhhh...good
answer. You got that
from Osyrus right? Tough
guy to beat...something
myself and you have in
common I guess, but
son...if you don't get
your head out of your
ass and stop thinking
about how you can't beat
me...then we'll never
get this job done
tonight!"
ICU's
eyes filled with rage as
he was reminded about
their past meeting, as
SilverHAWK took a few
steps back and began to
speak to everyone in the
room.
"Some
I have had the pleasure
of wrestling with, or
against you," he
drew his eyes to Alias
and ICU especially.
"Tonight we are all
on the same wavelength,
and that is to beat
whomever we are drawn
against, and that is our
job...that single task
is the only thing we
have to do, and if we
all do that tonight, we
will beat Winters INC.
Everyone in the
Resistance is here for
their own
reasons...mine, are that
I own a stake in this
company, and when I had
the chance to get rid of
Winters...I took the
offer right away.
But
for you four guys...it
is either for
professional pride...or
professional gain, and
whichever is fine by
myself, Dunn and Boyd.
It's do or die
gentlemen, and I sure
ain't dying for a second
time in an ACW ring..."
As
ICU, Vacton, Kain and
Alias looked at their
new team member, they
looked at one another
with a reassurance that
was never there until 2
minutes ago.
They
were going to win.
Team
Tantrums
"Listen
to me, it says right
here...you're number
one, he's two, and I'm
three, it's that fucking
simple, it doesn't mean
anything!"
In
one half of the arena
the locker room was calm
and collected, in
Winters INC's locker room,
total chaos. Along with
the message to Dunn and
Boyd, there was a
message to the INC,
giving them the details
of how each of them
would go out to the
matches tonight, and
there numbers, but it
seemed that giving
numbers such a one to
certain people, didn't
go down to well with the
other ego's in the
dressing room.
"Listen
Up!" Osyrus
screamed at the top of
his lungs, as Dubbs and
Rivers stood behind him,
Perry and Inferno were
sitting next to him,
watching the mayhem
going on. "It says
here that you're one
Perry, Dante is two, I'm
three, Rivers is four
and Dubbs it says here
that you're number five.
That's the way it
stay's, we don't change
numbers or nothing, it
stays, OK?"
"Damn
right playa!"
A*Dubbs added as he
strolled around the
dressing room, shadow
boxing at Geo Vacton,
"I'm gonna get that
nucka, damn
straight...then swipe
his title! HA!"
Rivers
wrapped tape around his
wrists as the countdown
to the main event was
getting closer...it was
obvious to all of the
men in the dressing room
that tonight they were
on their own, with or
without Winters, because
at the end of the day,
Winters can't do
anything as they hit
that ring, if he did, it
would be professional
suicide.
"OK,"
Dante started, as he
slowly rose from his
fold up chair. "Two
of you guys here haven't
fought SilverHAWK
before, hell I doubt you
were even in ACW when he
left...the way to beat
him is..."
"....the
legs..." Osyrus
sighed.
"What
playa?"
"I
said go for his
legs...his knee's are
fucked, break his leg,
put him out the match,
and ACW."
"That's
a bit rough don't you
think?" exclaimed a
little voice in the
corner, as Scott Perry,
the FORMER Television
champion said as he
leaned up against the
wall.
"Rough?"
Osyrus shouted, as he
looked straight at
Perry, and then slowly
began to move forward
towards him. "Rough
is what we want...it's
the reason you've been
getting your ass kicked
the last 5 weeks you
fucking wimp, grow some
balls, and go for the
legs! Hear me!"
As
Osyrus exited the room
in a hurry, he was
clearly angry and
probably left for the
better of the team, or
else he's be smashing
Winters INC into the
wall right at this very
moment in time.
Following him, was Dante
Inferno.
Dante
grabbed Osyrus and slung
him against the wall, as
both men looked each
other straight in the
eye, but Osyrus was not
one to be pushed around
so as Dante let off,
Osyrus took Dante to the
opposite wall and then
go straight into his
face...
"Leave
me alone..."
With
that, Dante and Osyrus
parted ways...only time
would tell where
Osyrus's allegiance now
lay, but it was now up
to the other 4 Winters
INC members to keep the
team running, or they
would be living in
professional heel for
the rest of their life.
It
is a Honor.
"Yeah, absolutely. This is a great night for ACW."
HAWK spoke to the reporters and flashed some smiles at
cameras as if he had
never left, HAWK was relishing the moment, but not for himself.. He was doing it for ACW. On magazines all over the world they would read SilverHAWK, sure, but they would read ACW right next to it. One by one the reporters faded away, and all that was left was Vacton standing across from HAWK. SilverHAWK shot a smile at Vacton.
"What's up?"
Geo looked up at SilverHAWK.
He smiled slightly.
"Hey.. Mr. HAWK.." Geo spoke slowly. "I-I, I just want to say how much of an honor it is to be defending the company along side you tonight. I hoped I'd get my chance to work with you when I started here in ACW.. I didn't exactly want it to be under these circumstances, obviously.. But it's an honor to be able to wrestle in the same ring as you will be tonight."
SilverHAWK had almost blushed.
"Thanks..." HAWK thought for a moment.
"The pleasure is all mine
though, hell you've gone
one on one with guys
alot better and tougher
than me, especially in
21wrestling, I know the
score with you man,
you'll do well
here.." Both of them smiled.
"Let's give 'em what they deserve tonight. Let's maintain the honor of this company." HAWK put his hand on Geo's shoulder, and Geo immediately felt and realized the impact that SilverHAWK had on this company. Sure, he had known it before, but now he truly felt it. This man would fight to preserve the company he helped create, and
Geo would fight to preserve the company he hoped to carry into the future.
It
Begins
The
crowd knew what was
coming next.
As
the pyro's began, and
the bigSCREEN flashed
images of the 10
competitors, all going
one on one with one
another in the previous
weeks, and after a few
moments of silence
afterwards, Dunn
appeared at the top of
the ramp, microphone in
hand, and ready to
deliver the rules
"The
rules are simple. John
over at ringside has two
pots, each numbered one
to five, as the numbers
are called out for the
teams, the members of
the team will run out,
and engage in battle.
Now
the in match rules are
simple, there are no
rules, apart from the
fact that nobody in
Winters INC, nor the
Resistance can interfere
in any of the matches at
any time, or else they
will give up a win for
their team..."
The
fans looked excited, and
inside, Dunn wanted to
tell them the Winters
news...but would it
build up the fans, or
would humanity take
over.
"Let's
get this show on the
road!"
"LADIES
AND GENTLEMAN,"
John the announcer's
voice took over almost
straight away. "THE
FIRST MEMBER OF WINTERS
INC. TO BE DRAWN OUT OF
THE POT IS...NUMBER ONE!
"AND
THE RESISTANCE NUMBER
IS...NUMBER ONE
ALSO!"
LEGENDS
MAIN EVENT MATCH ONE
Scott Perry Vs. Geo
Vacton
Legends.
Two of them, at least, they were in their own opinions.
Two men, their hatred for one another kept them apart for months, until tonight. Tonight Geo Vacton and Scott Perry would meet one more
time as they had been drawn out the hat first, for the biggest
match of their lives.
Some people would say that Geo drove Scott Perry to insanity. One of those people was Scott Perry
himself, and to this day a bitter resentment for Geo Vacton flows through the veins of Scott Perry.
Tonight was scheduled to be Scott Perry’s night of revenge, but would it end up that way?
---
I Stand.
A MudVayne song, the lyrics had a deep meaning to Scott Perry. It was the reason he selected the song. As it played throughout the arena Scott looked down to his shoulder. It was bare. He clenched his fists and gritted his teeth. He was still fuming from his loss at
Courage. His anger blinded him as he tore the curtain aside and paced out on to the stage,
title less.
He paused, observing the ACW fans for a moment before beginning his slow, bitter decent down the ramp. As he reached the bottom of the ramp he took a final look at his shoulder. He hadn’t been imagining it; his title was gone. And now Scott Perry hopped in to the ring and walked across the squared circle in to the corner that would be his. He lent in to the turnbuckle and looked up the ramp, waiting...
I’m TNT!
I’M DYNAMITE!
The entrance theme of Geo Vacton boomed from the P.A. system, AC/DC’s TNT, but it was drowned out almost completely by the ecstatic standing ovation that the competitor received. It was an ovation that he very much deserved. He was indeed an amazing superstar and a loyal member of the ACW roster. Geo by now had stepped through the curtain and had, what Scott Perry saw as, the goofy Geo smile on his face, he held in his head-level right hand a red stick of dynamite.
He lit it with a lighter, dropped the lighter and through the dynamite behind him, it exploded around ten feet behind him and flames licked in to the air for a moment or two. Geo began to calmly, innocently walk down the ramp. He stopped at the base of the ramp and looked around at the fans. He was interrupted as his music halted suddenly by a flying Scott Perry.
Scott Perry flew through the air, hitting a vaulting body press, taking down the fan favourite Geo Vacton. Scott was straight back to his feet and kicking the stunned Geo in no time. After a few boots and stops Scott cupped Geo’s head and dragged him to his feet, but Geo his an elbow to the gut of Scott. Scott arched over, winded a little.
Geo rolled in to the ring, getting back to grips with his surroundings. Scott stood up and slid under the bottom rope quickly but was stomped on by Vacton. At this point the bell tolled and the match had begun. Geo ran against the rope and delivered a baseball slide style dropkick to the side of Scott’s head. Scott rolled on to his back and Geo went for the quick pin.
1…
A quick kick out by Scott. Geo jumped to his feet and ran against the ropes once more, this time aiming for a leg drop. Scott slid out of the ring, avoiding Geo Vacton’s
maneuver.
As Geo hopped around holding his rear Scott slid under the bottom rope back in to the ring, he then hopped to his feet and flew at Geo as he turned around, hammering him with a thunderous clothesline. Geo’s head bounced from the mat, Scott used his momentum to switch directions and go against a rope, rolling, hopping to his feet, flipping over and hitting a rolling thunder move. And now he pinned Geo.
1…
2…
Geo hooked his legs and arms around Scott Perry’s large arms and rolled him
over in to a crucifix pin.
1…
2…
Scott rolled over and up to his feet, Geo refused to let go of his arms. Scott dropped backwards in to a Samoan drop; Geo relinquished his grip on Scott’s arms. Scott rolled on to his stomach and pushed himself to his feet. Scott dragged Geo to his feet; Geo pushed Scott’s hands in to the air, kicked him in the guy and hit a stunning DDT. Scott flew across the ring, landing, in a standing position, in the corner he begun the match in.
Geo flipped to his feet, ran to the corner opposing Scott’s, charged across the ring and hit a big corner clothesline. Scott stumbled out of the corner; Geo sits on the top turnbuckle, his feet on the middle one and waits for Scott to turn back around. As he does Geo jumps from the middle turnbuckle and hits an axe handle smash. Scott drops to the mat. Geo scoops him up and delivers a hanging vertical suplex, rolling over on top of Scott for the pin.
1…
2…
Scott shrugs Geo off him and slides to his feet; Geo too gets to his feet. The two men lock arms in an old fashioned tie up; Scott gets the upper hand, locking Geo in an arm lock. Geo quickly reverses in to an arm lock, moving it in to a
hammerlock, before pushing Perry off of the ropes.
Then came a moment of madness.
A nearby fan see the opportunity to take a photo, and by
coincidence, Scott Perry looked right into the flashlight of that
camera...leaving his vision temporarily vacant, Perry stopped in
the middle of the ring and rubbed his eyes...his vision was no
were near good enough to hit Vacton with any offense, but what he
did see, was the end of his night.
Geocide!
1...
2...
3!
Resistance 1 - 0 Winters INC
Vacton
pulled himself up as
Perry was knocked out,
the referee pushed Scott
Perry out of the ring as
staff hands took him to
the back. Such a
potentially career
exploding night had
taken a whimper for
Scott Perry. In the
space of two weeks he
had lost his TV Title,
and now he had lost to
Geo Vacton again.
When
would it end...
Winner: Geo Vacton
"LADIES
AND GENTLEMAN YOU'RE
WINNER, GEO VACTON...AND
NOW THE DRAW TO SEE WHO
THE NEXT WINTERS INC
OPPONENT SHALL
BE...NUMBER FIVE!
Put
Up, or Shut Up
|
|
Legends.
It was the time where a newfound king would find his throne.
The Main Event, would pit its next ACW Legend.
Or, in the same bout, a legend would solidify his name to an even further extinct, at once thought impossible.
But for A*Dubbs, the fastest rising ACW Star in the history of the foundation, it only meant two things.
Cash, and the chance to Main Event the greatest stage the ACW had to offer.
"Heh, it's money."
The laid back voice of Al Willis came to the crowd through the ACWTron, as a puff of smoke made its way to the camera. Although a voice came out of it, darkness filled the room.
A hint of light gave in to the locker he sat in, and he slowly made his way to it, so that some of his face gave you a feeling for who it was, if you didn't recognize the cold, harsh voice that he possessed.
He was wearing a valor Gucci ensemble, letting nothing but Nike Air Forces grace his feet. He took another puff of his green, before getting up, and showing off his blood-shot eyes to the fans and millions watching at home.
"Main Event. Could ya'll imagine? A nucka comin' out of Queens, in his second month of his big, phat ass contract main eventing for Legends, to become a legend. And don't doubt it for a second folks, I'ma become a legend, and it's gonna be right herre. Ya'll can't stop me. That tired ass nigga SilverHAWK can't stop me, and BES BELIEVE, that nucka Geo Vacton can't touch me. I'm tha main nucka in this joint, everybody bes' take notice before I
got's to bust a cap"
Allen takes yet another puff, exhaling slowly before speeding it up with his attempted speech.
"Geo. You wanna call me a honkey, you wanna come see me?! We can do this sucka, and we
bout to,
tonight!"
Without the slightest conclusion to his speech, Allen
walked out of his locker
room for his date with
destiny.
LEGENDS
MAIN EVENT MATCH TWO
A*Dubbs Vs. Geo
Vacton
"It's My
Party" screamed at the fans through the infamous P.A system, sending a message to the fans listening on what cue they were given. It was an obvious message, in which they acted on immediately, as A*Dubbs stood out on the stage to his theme playing loudly. This would most likely be one of the most important battles of the
ACW's history, but to Allen, this was personal.
A*Dubbs had been beaten twice by the man who he would face as soon as Allen was quick on the attack, stomping the body of Geo
Vacton as he quickly ran
into the ring as he met
the half way point. Geo fought the pain, standing to his feet despite the thrusts taken at him. Allen threw Geo into the ropes, before trying a roundhouse clothesline. Geo evaded the Clothesline by going under it, returning with a dropkick to A*Dubbs' face.
Allen fell to the ground, but was quick to jump to his feet from the mat. Geo, already up began slugging Dubbs in the face with his vicious right hands, but on the fourth shot, was cut short by Allens rake to the eyes.
The fans were not down.
The Number 1 Nucka took advantage by kicking Geo in the stomach, but Geo was quick to respond, catching the attempted stomp on his gut.
He waved his hands, "No, no, no, HONKEY!", Geo screamed.
Allen began waving his hands, trying to get Geo to re-consider, but quickly stopped.
Geo was curious as to why Allen had stopped begging for Geo to stop and replaced his rants with a grin, but was quick to receive an answer, as a foot slammed against the back of his head.
Allen had hit a fierce Insuguri, and had Geo down, even if it was only for a couple seconds. Allen sprinted to the top rope, jumping past the first and second turnbuckle, before releasing his grip on the top one. Geo, dazed, turned, as
Allens flight had already taken off. Geo fell right back down, victim from a Top Rope Missile Dropkick.
Allen looked towards the crowd, smiling, as the fans pelted him
with abuse...
Allen stepped outside the ring, waiting for Geo to stand.
While groggily, Geo started to stand. Allen screamed to Geo,
"STAND UP NUCKA, SO I CAN KNOCK DAT ASS BACK DOWN!"
Geo stood, and Allen jumped from the top rope, to the second rope next to both sides corner, and onto Geo, attempting a Tornado DDT. Instead, Geo took control, swaying Allen to the side, and onto the ground, for a Sidewalk Slam.
Geo stood, and wasting no time he picked Dubbs to his feet, before executing a T-Bone Suplex.
Geo spit obscenities that were blocked from the teleprompter, until made a motion for the top rope.
Making A*Dubbs "Crypt" signal from the top rope, before screaming
"HONKEY!!!", the fans knew what Geo would try to attempt.
Geo was trying to nail Allens premiere finisher, Pimp Juice.
Geo jumped and compiled a 420 jump, but missed the most important part. The landing.
Allen, favoring his back, moved out of the way, fearing extinction if he was not to avoid his own trademark move.
Jumping to the top rope, Allen made his own trademark known, giving the
"Crypt" signal from his left hand similar to Snoop
Doggs. Jumping off of the top rope, Allen
hit.the.Juice. or at least he tried.
Geo had also moved out of the way, avoiding the treacherous finisher. Geo stomped on the body of Al Willis, before jumping onto the top rope, again. Geo, this time wasted absolutely no time, jumping off of the top rope. This time, he did not hit the ground without landing on an organ. The problem was, he did not land before receiving two feet, one to the jaw, and the other to the throat. He had fell to a perfectly placed dropkick at the hands of his opponent.
Although the fans hated the newly signed aWc Wrestler, their emotions gave them no choice but to pop the maneuver.
Both men lay motionless on the ground, before motion was shown through A*Dubbs. Dubbs rose to his feet, and Geoff did as well, rubbing his jaw. Both began slugging away desperately, trying to stay alive in the Series to determine who would be the survivor. Geo, receiving the advantage through a right hand, kicked Dubbs in the gut, before hitting a Vaccinator.
For the first time in this bout, a pin was attempted.
1...
2...
NO!!!
Dubbs kicked out, to Geo's unfortunate belief. He picked Dubbs up, and putting him through the DDT position, tried executing his devastating finisher, the Geocide. But as he went for the turn, Allen turned the tables executing the
Unprettier ala Christian. Raising up slowly, Allen showed through hand motions he had been through enough, and he was ready to end things. He jumped outside, and threatened to pimp slap the ring announcer if he
didn't move.
The announcer moved, and Allen took the chair he had been sitting on. A*Dubbs jumped into the ring, waiting for Geo to rise.
As Geo did so, Allen threw the chair into Geo's face. Catching the chair, Geo knew what was coming next. He rose his hands up to each side of the chair, and Allen went for a picture-perfect dropkick. Bouncing off the chair, Allen completed a back flip. Geo then proceeded to toss the chair to Dubbs, trying for a round-housed jump kick. Allen, ducking the attempted Van-Daminator, turned his attention back to
Geo's body, denting the chair over
Vacton's head.
The impact was earth shattering.
Allen walked out of the ring, looking to add more to the wreck.
Geo lay in the ring without a hint of movement, his head now trickling with blood.
Allen pulled out a table, and slid it into the ring, to a slight pop from the fans. That was, until he unveiled what was to come next.
From under the ring Allen pulled out, lighter fluid.
The fans went insane.
Allen slid into the ring, setting up the table, and soon after lighting it as well.
Picking the dazed but aware Geo Vacton, Allen pushed him away, before missing a superkick, and receiving one of
Geo's instead.
The crowd was on their feet, because for one A*Dubbs was out of things, and two, right in the center of the ring stood a table,
in flames.
Geo stared at the table, before picking Dubbs to his feet. Geo kicked Allen in the gut, bending Dubbs over, before raising Dubbs to his shoulders.
"OH SHIT..!!"
Allen began punching Geo in the head, but to no avail. With a thrusts from his hands, Geo put Allen straight through the table.
The fans went ape shit breaking into chants of ACW, as Allen rolled around in the ring trying to extinguish the flames using tactics taught to him in first and second grade.
Geo rose to his feet screaming, before going for the pin.
1...
2...
3!!!
The match was over, and Geo had once again, raged victorious.
The same
staff whom has checked
out Scott Perry were now
back on the scene as
they attempted to empty
the ring of clutter, and
also attend to not only
Dubbs, but to Vacton as
well who now had blood
running from his
forehead.
Vacton
was now 2-0, on a roll
as they say, but what
would the pot have in
store for him next.
Winner: Geo
Vacton
"ALTHOUGH I NOW DON'T HAVE CHAIR, I WILL CONTINUE ON FANS OF
ACW...THE THIRD MEMBER OF WINTERS INC TO COME INTO THIS MATCH WILL BE...
Sleeping
Giant
He
laughed, and then
walked...
Dante's
number was up and as he
left Dane Rivers, Osyrus
and now the dazed Scott
Perry in the Winters INC
locker room, he walked
through the backstage
and to the technical
area with a smile on his
face, as Vacton was
already bloodied, surely
slightly tired...and all
that boiled down to
Dante talking apart the
United States champion.
As
he reached the pyro and
pa area, he grabbed a
hold of one of the
technicians and spun him
around, peering into his
eyes.
"No
music...I want to hear
the screams."
One
Day...
|
|
The scene opened with 108192 strolling down the backstage corridors of the arena, staring at a photograph he held gently in his hands. He waled without any care of what was a ahead of him, as he was completely fixated on his picture. He spoke softly to himself, or maybe the picture, saying things that made no sense to an outsider looking in.
He quickly shuffled around a corner into another hall as the light shone of his bald, waxed head. Quinton May was walking towards him but he somehow
became blinded by a reflection off of 108192's cranium and went flying into the former convict ! The two men stumbled back but managed to retain their balance and remain on their feet.
"I am terribly sorry, I couldn't see a thing. I 'm Quinton May, remember me from earlier?"
108192 looked confused, as his memory was somewhat fuzzy now-a-days. He looked around, appearing puzzled and out of place. Quinton was also overcome by a peculiar look, wondering what was going on inside this guy's head.
"Uh... Nah. Wait, yeah, you came to my dressing room... Look, it's OK buddy, don't wor---"
108192 stopped midsentence as he noticed something on the ground. Quinton looked down to see what was going on, and noticed 108192's precious photograph, right under his foot. He stepped off of the picture and looked at 108192. Quinton picked up the picture and handed it to the awe struck X-prisoner. The man took the picture, shoved it in his pocket and simply stared at
Quinton with his mouth wide open.
Quinton began apologizing profusely but 108192's face became full of rage and anger.
"NOBODY TOUCHES MY PICTURE.... Do you understand me ? NOBODY...."
"Yeah, I'm sorry, it was an accident."
"Do you know what happens to people who FUCK with my picture?"
"Uh, no... I.... I.... I'm not, um, exactly clear on that."
By this time 108192 was advancing
on Quinton, who was being forced back slowly. Suddenly, the madman stopped. He smiled and turned around to walk away. Quinton may breathed a sigh of relief because he didn't want to burn any bridges with prospective members of ARMY. He was about to walk away but before he even got the chance, 108192 spun quickly and kicked Quinton as hard as he possibly could, right in
the groin.
Quinton dropped like a cinder block in the ocean, as he winced in extreme pain. 108192 grabbed him by the hair and yanked him to his feet, before ramming Quinton's face into the cement walls lining the corridors. He repeated the process a number of times until he threw
Quinton through a door, into what appeared to be some kind of dressing room.
108192 discovered a chair in the corner of this room and threw it into poor Quinton's bloody forehead as the groggy fellow tried to get back on his feet. A glass coffee table that sat in the corner of the room was pulled to the middle by 108192. He picked up
Quinton and drove his head into the cold floor with a vicious DDT.
"Listen punk... This picture means everything to me, and YOU STEPPED ON IT ! WHO DOES THAT ? WHO THE HELL STEPS ON OTHER GUYS PICTURES, HUH ?"
108192 grabbed him once again by the hair, which was at this point beginning to be soaked with blood.
"Well, you won't be stepping on pictures anymore, you rude bastard !"
108192 scooped Quinton up, and held him there for a second, thinking. He looked at the coffee table, then smiled, before throwing Quinton's limp body down upon it. His back hit first and shattered the glass ! After the table was demolished and the glass dispersed, Quinton's body lay in a mix of glass fragments and blood while 108192 just watched.
The x-con went back out into the hallway, and pulled his picture out of his pocket.
The picture featured a 108192 when he had hair, beside young boy and a woman, seated in what looked like a typical pose you find people in while getting photographed at Wal-Mart.
He gazed at the picture one more time and resumed his walk through the halls.
LEGENDS
MAIN EVENT MATCH THREE
Dante Inferno Vs. Geo
Vacton
Dante Inferno made a straight line to the
ring as ACW staff took
their final moments to
prepare the cut on
Vacton's head. He looked daringly at a few members of the crowd, but his overall attention was at his foe in the ring. He flexed his shoulders and cracked his back just as he rolled into the ring and paced around Vacton for a
moment, who was looking
far groggier than
expected, and no wonder
after that chair shot
earlier on.
There was a long while where the two stared each other down. They had met in the ring before in the tag match on Courage not long before, and they had taken a lot out of each other on that night.
It was clear this was going to be quite the
match-up, even if Vacton
was less that 100%.
The two men continued to circle each other and finally the bell was rung. They charged at each other and met in a lock up where they started it off with a slow bang in a test of strength. Inferno won and tossed Vacton into the ropes. Dante went for a simple back-body-drop, but Geo leaped frogged over him. Realizing the danger, Dante dropped to the mat as Geo hit the
opposite ropes. Geo stepped over Dante and then hit the other ropes. On his return Dante slapped him onto the mat with a drop toe hold.
Geo rolled away and stood up.
Inferno snarled as he again circled Vacton. He wanted more,
much more. The two locked up again, Dante won and kicked Geo in the stomach where he used the position to put Geo up in a hanging vertical suplex. Dante showed his awesome strength as he held Vacton there for a second and then brought him crashing onto the mat. Inferno gave a slight grin, and then put a head lock on Vacton. Geo shuck out and managed to get away from Inferno's kung foo like grip.
Geo spun up to the ropes where he leaned on them until Inferno stood up. Geo charged at him with a clothes line, but Inferno ducked it and hit a rock bottom type move. The crowd buzzed as Inferno picked Geo up and slapped him around a little. He sent him into the turnbuckle where he
repeatedly smashed his head onto the pads. Geo fought Inferno off with a few elbows and then finally a mule kick.
Inferno stumbled back, allowing Geo back up onto the second turnbuckle and then jump off with a drop kick. Inferno fell onto the mat and Geo quickly got to his feet and then grabbed Dante's legs. He held them like he was going to put him into a
Boston Crab, but then he fell back and slung shot Dante into the turnbuckles. Geo giggled at being able to hit such a move as he walked away from Dante. Dante wasn't too impressed as he came to his feet and tackled Geo to the mat where he let out some aggression with an array of quick and steady punches to Geo's chest. Geo, working his feet to Inferno's chest, monkey flipped Dante off of him and slipped away.
Geo didn't look to the crowd like they may have expected him to.
Geo stood poised as Inferno stood up. BAM!
Geo hit a super kick to Inferno's chin. Dante spat some blood to the side, but seemed more angry then truly hurt. He grabbed Geo and sent him into the ropes. Geo hit the ropes and was hit by Dante's massive forearm. Dante scooped Geo up and put him into the DVD position where he smashed his head into the ground with a
samoan drop. Inferno smirked at the crowd and then again picked Geo up. He dragged him across the ring and then tucked his head between his legs. Inferno brought Geo up into a power bomb position, but Geo quickly changed the move into a
hurricanrana! Geo ran to the ropes and hit his popular trademark move, the Dynasault! Geo went for the pin..
One!
Two!
Thre--
Dante pressed Geo off of his chest and rolled off to the side where he climbed to his feet. Geo stood up slowly, not surprised that even after a good showing of moves that Inferno would still be there for the fight. Inferno grabbed Geo and violently tossed him over his head with a belly-to-belly suplex. Inferno grunted and stepped across the ring. Geo came to his feet slowly, he was saving energy. Dante met Geo with a swift kick to the stomach and then hit an even flow DDT. Inferno spun around on the mat and put an aggressive sleeper hold on Geo.
Vacton used his free arm to try and pull Inferno off of him but it was clear that Inferno wasn't going to let up. Veins were popping out of his head and his eyes were
bulging with anger. Geo kicked his legs up, trying to
relive the pressure in his lower back. Finally, Inferno just tossed Geo away and then paced around the ring. Inferno kicked Geo in the side of the ribs and then he picked him up. He lifted Geo up into the air and then picked him up into the air and hit a jackhammer on him. Geo's head almost snapped as Inferno went for the pin.
One!
Two!
It was close, but Geo got out, somehow. Inferno stood up, kicked Geo in the shoulder and made his way to the turnbuckles. Geo slowly got to his feet, and Inferno jumped off from the top turnbuckle with a clothesline. Geo used quick thinking and met the assault with a spinning heel kick! Both men now circled each other and as Inferno charged at Geo, he kicked him in the stomach and hit a quick toss power bomb. The crowd rallied behind Geo he stumbled forward after hitting the move.
"T-N-T! T-N-T! T-N-T!"
Geo held his arms up to the crowd and paced around the ring as Inferno quickly came to his feet. Geo charged at Inferno and grabbed his neck. Geo spun up and ran up the turnbuckles, while still holding Inferno's neck, but Inferno was quick to change the tide of the move. As Geo jumped onto the turnbuckles, Dante threw Vacton over his head and let him land behind him. Inferno clasped his hands and then speared the rising Vacton as he had done earlier in the match. But this time he didn't continue it with a barrage of punches, instead he paced over Vacton and waited for him to rise.
Geo got to his feet, and Inferno whipped him into the ropes. He hit a big boot and then picked up Vacton. He grabbed his midsection and set him up for a pile driver, but Geo managed to back body drop him and then run to the ropes! He jumped to the second rope and back flipped through the air with his amazing Dynasault! Dante was at his feet, however, by the time Geo had jumped off and Dante ran forward. As Geo flipped, Dante grabbed his neck and hit..
HEAVEN/HELL!!!! Geo's neck nearly broke in the deadly move just as it had almost in the tag match a few weeks ago! Inferno hooked Geo leg, and the referee came in to make the count!
One!
Two!
THREE!!
Inferno stood up, allowed the referee to hold his arm up in victory as the crowd roared with boos, and then dropped to his knees. He held his arms out and laughed wildly. He just moved his team one step closer to victory...as
Vacton was rolled out
the ring by the referee.
"WE'RE
BACK!" he screamed
as he rested himself on
the ropes...he made it
looked like he had
hardly broke a sweat as
he cleaned his mouth of
dried up blood which had
left him from the
superkick...
Resistance
2 - 1 Winters INC
Winner: Dante
Inferno
Piece
of Mind
|
|
Minutes left.
Every man has a time to shine. But never before had it been the choice of either shining or having your light put out permanently.
Kain thought he’s had this decision before, but this time it was different.
This wasn’t about his career in this federation. This wasn’t about him fighting out of doctor’s orders. This was about the freedom of this federation. He looked up at a television monitor, news about the war in Iraq flickered about. He knew that he was no where at the level of those American, British, Spaniard, and Turkish men and women… fighting for the freedom of the free world. But if he was going to play a role in this world… showing the people of the world that a freedom can happen is the next best thing right?
“This isn’t about me, is it?” Jade looked at him concerned. “This isn’t about your contract anymore?”
Kain looked up at her, then smiled. He walked over to her, lifted her chin, then pulled her to her feet. With a long embrace, and a final kiss…
“It’s not about any of that.” Kain looked at the monitor. “It always comes down to one big battle. Whether it be an argument with a loved one… The fight between life and death on a hospital bed… An all out war… That is their battle and this is ours. The object now, m’love, is to have the battle won by the right side.”
“Are we on the right side?” She looked up at him.
He looked back at the screen. “Are we sure there ever truly IS a right side?”
No,
Not El Janitors. Not
006.392, No. Someone
Else...
Having watched as their leader Quinton May
wrestle in an absolute classic earlier on, El Janitors and 006.392 were proud to be in the ring, soaking up the warm reception of the
crowd as the main event
was underway, but
periods of rest where
given between each of
the matches, and as
Dante Inferno stood
outside the ring,
waiting, QA's stood in
the ring.
Their intention? To spread the word of Quinton's Army to the masses. With the addition of Ron Williams and one more guaranteed addition soon enough from May, the Army's strength was growing by the day. Yet, the recruitment drive was continuing.
"HELLO, EVERYBODY!" Howard yelled, the sprite old man surprising many with the volume of his voice. 006.392 clapped his hands, inciting the crowd to respond more
favorably.
Morris? He was... pacing around the ring, looking as if he badly needed to go to the toilet.
"Yes, hasn't it been a grand night so far? Well, the reason we're out here tonight is to educate you all about how wonderful Quinton's Army is. And to do that, I'll have my fellow janitor Morris run over some of the benefits of actually joining the Army. You see, the Army is more than a clique. It's a group of people, living together, working towards one common goal! And that is what makes it so special, people!"
Touching words, and the crowd somewhat responded. But as the microphone was handed to Morris, the cheers got louder. The most electrifying janitor in all of Janitor Entertainment was about to address the capacity crowd. And as he raised the microphone to his lips, one could almost cut the tension in the air with a knife. Or a used condom. Whichever is more accessible.
"MY FREAKING PAL HOWARD IS FREAKING RIGHT! QUINTON'S ARMY IS FREAKING GREAT!"
Mega-pop.
Mega-pop.
It was strange how one janitor from Eastern Europe who used the word 'freaking' excessively could become so freaking popular. But that was the charm Janitor Morris possessed. Another thing he possessed was a name that didn't seem to fit his place of origin, but it wasn't as if anybody freaking cared. They were now attentive to the giant of a janitor, who stopped pacing about the ring and looked at the crowd.
"YOU SEE, PEOPLE, IF YOU FREAKING JOIN QUINTON'S ARMY, YOU GET TO FREAKING WATCH BRAZILIAN PORN! AND CONTRARY TO FREAKING POPULAR BELIEF, BRAZILIAN PORN IS FREAKING COOL! VAIS! FREAKING VAIS!"
The crowd laughed and 006.392's face turned red; having watched Brazilian porn the week before, he found it to be boring and didn't wish to be reminded of the incident again. However, a rude interruption was about to occur.
"Time" by Taproot started to play over the speakers.
A theme song nobody in the ACW used. Confused, the crowd waited to see who it was. Finally, someone did appear from behind the curtains. Someone...
unfamiliar. To some, at least. Quite a bunch in attendance
recognized the man.
Former tFZ, thReat and uKw superstar. Amongst other organisations, which included... the Outback Fighter's Guild, the Underground Fighting Federation, and the Supreme Wrestling Federation. A man who had disappeared into obscurity around August last year, after a fallout with a close friend and his sister. One who looked stronger, now that he was back.
Jakks. Or more commonly known as Vincent Pembridge. The Scorpion Of Manchester.
Wearing a black short-sleeved shirt, black jeans, and black boots... Vincent began to walk down the ramp, a microphone in his hand. Some cheers began to ring out in the arena, for they were believing Vincent was back and a new signee to the company. They weren't wrong. They were, however, wrong to cheer him. As you all will soon find out.
"You three. Bloody tossers, you all are."
El Janitors and 006.392 looked at each other, confused and insulted. The cheering stopped, the crowd now opting to keep silent.
"It's bloody nice to be back in the thick of things here, but to see the likes of you three cunts wasting precious airtime? A bleeding shame. You twats are out here, rambling on about something that makes no bleeding sense at all. This whole company, to be honest, is a bleeding joke. Good thing I decided to stop by, eh?" he continued, now stepping through the ropes and into the ring.
El Janitors pushed the young 006.392 behind them, as the crowd began to boo. Heavily.
"Take, for example, that cunt you all call a World Champion. ICU. Intensive Care Unit. What kind of bleeding moniker is that, seriously? It's horrendous, and the bastard should be shot for using such a name. Then there's that tosser, Scott Perry. Sounds like a twat who would give himself a bloody self-anal. Horrible. And you three imbeciles. Just look at the three of you!"
The jeers continued to rain down on Vincent Pembridge, as he stood in front of El Janitors, grinning. Morris was fuming mad by now.
"YOU FREAKING BALDY YOU! WHO DO YOU FREAKING THINK YOU FREAKING ARE?!"
Just as the crowd erupted in cheers, Vincent threw the mic down onto the mat and kicked Morris in the gut, before flooring Howard with a terrific left cross-hook, before turning his attention back to Morris. How? A knife-edge chop to his throat, of course.
Windpipe Smash.
That just left 006.392 in the ring, terrified to the skin of his bones now. Vincent smiled, and raced forward to prevent the kid from escaping the ring, knocking him down to the mat with a hard club to the back of the head. Howling in agony, 006.392 soon found The Scorpion Of Manchester's hand around his throat. And in one fluid motion, Vincent raised the youngster into the air, spun around, and slammed him down to the canvas with a chokeslam.
The destruction was complete.
"Who am I, you asked? Vincent Pembridge. And ACW, this old grand lady, is totally fucked."
Throwing the microphone he'd just picked up out of the ring, Vincent Pembridge slithered out of the ring, the jeers of the crowd almost deafening now. It seemed as if the ACW now had a scorpion within their ranks, and one who seemed angrier than usual.
For those who didn't know who he was, it now looked a certainty that Vincent had every intention of changing that.
One way or the other.
After
the pleasantries had
been over with as QA was
stretchered to the back
as Dante Inferno rolled
back into the ring,
jumping on the spot as
he awaited the next man
down the line.
"THE
NEXT NUMBER IS...TWO!"
LEGENDS
MAIN EVENT MATCH FOUR
Dante Inferno Vs. Jason
Kain
Kain glared at Dante for a moment, before he climbed out of the ring. Dante climbed out as well.
Both men stood outside the ring, staring at each other from between the ropes. This is definitely NOT the first time they’ve both been in the ring together… on one side, the calm and collected Dante Inferno, the silent brink of insanity slowly snapping… the other side, the already insane Jason Kain, a man who has nothing to lose, and all the world to gain from this match. The stare down lasted for quite a while, as the crowd started to murmur the excitement that was building in their minds.
Both men looked tired… …one from the fact that he’d been through a hell of a beating, the other at just the events of the past few weeks. But as both men put one hand on the rope, they knew it all came down to this. The past doesn’t matter now. Their endless rabble with each other has no say now. This was the present, and the present was the only important thing. As their arms pulled them to the apron, the crowd exploded into a roar, and as their legs went under the rope, the roar turned into a booming pop… then they climbed in and the pop turned into a insane frenzy.
Dante flew toward Kain with a hard clothesline sending flat to his back, but instead of taunting the crowd, he pulled Kain to his feet, flinging him to the mat with a body slam, then kicking him hard in the back. Kain rolled to his stomach and started to push himself to his feet, but Dante
wouldn't let up, sending hard stomps to Kain’s back as Kain crawled toward the ropes. Dante dropped a hard elbow to Kain’s back, just as Jason grabbed the bottom rope. The ref forced Inferno off of Jason, but instead Dante pulled Kain to his feet.
Dante looked at Kain face to face before driving a lariat sending Kain to the mat hard, then crawling over to his face Dante send a barrage of insults, finishing it off with a slap to the face, causing the crowd to boo him madly. Dante stood up and looked to the crowd, and shook his head, grabbing Kain by his hair and lifting him to his feet again. In one full swoop, Dante flung Kain over the top rope to the hard concrete outside. The ref tried to stop Dante, but he continued to the outside of the ring. The ref started the count…
1…
Dante pulled Kain to his feet, and sent him head-first into the guardrail.
2…
Dante laid in a quick set of punches to Kain’s stomach and face as he laid in the corner, trying to catch his breath.
3…
Kain tried shoving back, but Dante pulled him around sending him into the ring post, dropping him to the ground again.
4…
Dante lifted him to his feet, lifting up his chin and chopping hard into Kain’s chest… and again.
5…
Dante set in another chop, shoving Kain into the guardrail again…
6…
But Kain suddenly flipped the position, using whatever he had hiding from Dante, to spin around the big man, dropping him with a drop toe hold into the guardrail!!
7…
Kain rushes back to the ring and climbs in, trying to catch his breath…
8…
Dante gets to a knee, and checks his lips before turning back toward the ring.
9…
Dante climbed in and the ref started arguing with him. But Dante just shoved the ref out of the way and stretched his back muscles, laughing at Kain’s persistence. Kain wearily climbed to his feet, but Dante charged in… and Kain countered with another drop toe hold, send Dante neck first into the top rope. But this suddenly gave Kain a second wind as he suddenly charged to the ropes, bouncing off the second one, swinging into a springboard dropkick. Dante wobbled back, as Kain smirked, charging in with his White Lightning! The spear hit as hard as it could dropping Dante to the mat, and Kain followed it up with a large set of angry rights to the face.
Dante rolled to his side, shoving Kain off of him, but Kain grabbed onto Dante’s arm, using his own momentum to flip him over into a fujiwara armbar! The crowd’s rumbling turned into a “SUCK ON THIS” chant, as Kain pulled his hardest. But Dante was too close to the ropes, grabbing onto the bottom one, and the ref pulled Kain off.
Dante stood up smiling sadistically, laughing at Kain’s seemingly feeble effort. Kain looked at Dante, sneering. Dante’s laughter started getting more wild, psychotic almost. Kain looked to one side, then another, then went to the ropes. The rebound came off without a hitch, Kain dove into Dante with a hard flying clothesline, then stood up behind him as he shambled to his feet and wrapped his arms around his waist. The crowd popped loudly as Kain pulled him hard over his head in a flip German suplex. Kain stood up again, screaming “WHAT NOW!? You gonna laugh again?” But as Dante stood up, the smile was gone.
Dante exploded from his side of the ring, flying at Kain with everything he had. But Kain seemed to be prepared… Kain swung over with a hard punch trying to put Dante out as quick as possible, but something wasn’t right. Dante smirked, as he obviously had this planned, ducking under the punch and catching Kain with a full nelson… swinging it over into Kain’s own finisher…
The crowd booed loudly as Dante landed the Electric Slide, dropping Kain to the mat hard. Dante got up, smiling and wiping his mouth. He looked down and spit on Kain, “Chance? Taken.”
He grabbed Kain’s arm, with a psychotic smile, wrapping it into a scissor. Adding insult to injury, he wrapped his other arm around his neck, and locked the leg scissors finishing the Shocking Experience, as Kain flailed hopelessly. But Dante wasn’t through there, he kept squeezing on Kain’s injured ribs, laughing horribly, as Kain finally passed out from the pain. The ref tried pulling Dante off, but the man wouldn’t let go. The bell rang several times, and finally Dante got off and stood up. He grabbed a mic and looked to the entryway.
“WHO THE FUCK IS NEXT!?!?”
Inferno looked to have taken over from Vacton as he was on a roll
for his team, as Kain walked up the ramp, he was beaten but by no
means near the condition he had been in the previous two matches
that the pair had engulfed themselves in...but things where just
about to take a step up.
Winner: Dante
Inferno
"NUMBER THREE COME ON DOWN!"
Sealed With a Love and Kiss
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The camera cuts to the corridors of the ACW arena for tonight’s show. There is silence….apart from the echoing roar of the crowd that fills the arena. Suddenly Ron Williams comes round the corner, his usual self. In his hand he possesses a donut, which he accurately chews before swallowing it. He
stabilizes his composure and bursts through the door that leads to his locker room. Unexpectedly, he comes to a halt. The donut is sacrificed…its icing landing ‘Splat’ on the cold hostile tiling.
Ron steps forward in an uncharacteristic style before perching himself on the bench next to his locker. He turns his neck slightly and stares at the locker…..something is not quite right. And then he spots it; the door is not properly closed. He mumbles to himself, confused, before standing up and taking a few steps to the locker. He swings open the heavyweight iron locker-door…and what he sees before him leaves him in a state of shock. Nailed to the back of the locker room is a note, accompanied by a lock of hair.
And not just any lock of hair….a golden lock of hair. If this were indeed the hair of a male then perhaps a diagnosis of a trip to the mental hospital nearby would be appropriate. He removes the nail and places the note in his hand, reading its contents out loud.
“Meet me in the parking lot at 9:30pm” he reads, as a mystified frown creeps onto his face. He nods and scrolls his eyes to the bottom of the paper.
A signature…a signature which Ron had never laid eyes on before. ‘H.S.’ it read, in block capital letters. A few
millimeters below it….’XXX’….and what looks to be some ‘lip prints’…..lipstick. Williams grins and shrugs his shoulders, placing the note in his pocket.
Ron then casually walks out of his locker room, purposely leaving the door open in hope of receiving more “Love-letters”. As he walks towards one end of the corridor at the other end, round the corner, a monstrous shadow darkens the area…….
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